I've burned two pieces in a row, due to the mad frenzy in which I am dashing around my home, completing perfunctory tasks at some early a.m. hour.
just chill, Heidi. sit down by the toaster oven, and take a deep, cinnamony breath of leisure.
I've got too much shit going on, and I can't stop. And I don't have a battery insert, the way I seriously suspect that annoying energizer bunny does.
ok, my toast is done. right, this time.
and I'm back, slice in hand.
some dude in his huge, solitary mansion just tried to charm his way into my pants all night, under the, it turns out, false cover of 'friends hanging out.' and I was like, uh uh, pops.
I hate when guys with money think they can have whatever they want. It makes me more convinced than ever that I don't want to end up with someone that has more dough than me, that's for sure.
ok, I'm gonna go continue reading 'one hundred years of solitude' and fall asleep now.